


salt in the wound

by wyvernknighted



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Coming Out, Gen, Gender Dysphoria, Injury, Misgendering, Multi, Near Death Experiences, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Lucina, Ship can be read as romantic or platonic, Trans Laurent, Trans Male Character, Transitioning, gender euphoria, this focuses on Lucina's gender identity and their fear of coming out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:49:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26648545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wyvernknighted/pseuds/wyvernknighted
Summary: After a near death experience, Lucina realizes they need to come out to their family. Sadly, this is much easier said than done.Written for FE:Awakening Trans Weekend (prompt: bonds)
Relationships: Gerome & Lucina (Fire Emblem), Gerome/Loran | Laurent/Lucina, Loran | Laurent & Lucina
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	salt in the wound

**Author's Note:**

>   
> I realized I was trans myself after engaging with other transgender people and hearing their stories about how they experienced gender. So much of transgender identity is based in community and sharing that knowledge with those who were previously in the dark. I was really excited to see Bonds as the prompt for FE:A trans weekend, so I decided to dive into that topic as it relates to Lucina realizing that they are nonbinary.  
>   
> There is no blatant transphobia in this, but it is a story which focuses on the fear of coming out to one’s family. Lucina is afraid of being misunderstood or rejected by those around them. Also I directly talk about transgender identity in this, drawing on a lot of my own personal experiences as a nonbinary person, so heads up for that.  
>   
>  **Note on pronouns & name:** Lucina is nonbinary in this and chooses to continue using their birth name. I use they/them pronouns throughout this work to refer to Lucina. When using the reflexive pronoun for them, I use themself because it is the singular version (as someone who uses they/them pronouns, this is how I personally use it for myself).  
>   
>   
>  _cw: injury in battle, brief mentions of misgendering_  
> 

Lucina felt more than saw the blade breach their shield. It pierced their abdomen with a sickening wave of pain. They stumbled, the risen warrior close enough that its acrid breath flooded their senses. The rotting stench brought to mind graves and corpses. Lucina blinked and saw their own body stretched across a casket. They wondered what words might be said over their form, what sort of language might be used to describe the fallen Ylissean royal.

They knew the words. Each term brought another twist of dread to their heart. Princess. Girl. Woman. Daughter, sister. she, her.

In their casket, they would at least hope to be buried in regalia. But knowing Ylissean tradition, the attire could be feminized. It might involve any number of items they detested. The dress they bought in an attempt to appease their mother, who had always leaned into femininity with an ease, might even stretch tight across their unbound chest. Their eyes would sit open and staring, the mark of the exalt now dim.

Lucina returned to the present with a shuddering gasp. The pain tore through their stomach, ripping away all thoughts of death and replacing them with a searing agony.

They could not help but scream as they pulled away from the risen’s grasp and thrust their sword upwards in a desperate arc. The risen collapsed into ash, coating their wound with grime. Lucina fell to their knee and clung to Falchion for balance. The shock of pain fogged their vision as they strained to look for a nearby companion.

They did not need to look far, however. A rising stave shone from across the battlefield, and they felt the ache dull immediately. Maribelle raised a hand, asking _Are you okay?_ with only a wave.

Lucina stumbled to their feet and nodded. But she had already signaled above and they saw Minerva approach from the sky.

“Are you hurt?” Gerome called as he circled to land beside them.

“No, I’m alright.” Lucina regained their balance, carefully tilting their shield so that it covered the torn cloth and wound across their stomach.

“Let’s get you to the back line.” Gerome said curtly. “This area is swamped with risen. We should at least fall back.”

“But Robin—”

“Would understand.” Gerome extended a hand. “Please.”

“Alright.” Lucina exhaled a stiff breath. They took his hand and climbed onto Minerva’s back.

* * *

“I don’t know what you were thinkin’ out there, Lucina.” Brady spat out the words as he examined their wound up close. “This is a real serious injury, y’know that?”

“I could not falter.” Lucina said as if that were an acceptable answer. Their hands were clasped together awkwardly as they twisted to allow Brady a full view of the damage. The blade had cut deep, tearing through their flesh in a jagged line. They carefully pointed their gaze upward, settling on a corner of the tent’s ceiling.

Cynthia sat nearby, her leg bouncing with a tangible anxiety. Laurent and Gerome were also present, seated together on the opposite side of the room. Lucina could feel Laurent’s gaze burning into the side of their face from across the tent. Gerome was looking away, head leaned on his fist as if he were unbothered. Lucina knew from the rigor in his posture that this was not the case.

“This wound could’ve killed you.” Brady eyeballed it with a deep frown. “You shouldn’t have kept fighting. Once that blade cut you this deep, you know you should have signaled for a paired retreat.”

“It did not feel that bad in the moment.” Lucina was not exactly lying. When they were first pierced through, it was completely numb. Shock, probably. Then, they felt the pain, but the physic from Maribelle had helped dull it enough to regain their senses. And by the time that wore off, their adrenaline was back up and they kept pace with battle well enough.

Until they collapsed from blood loss, that is. Gerome turned to regard them in that moment, his lip curled in annoyance. He was the one who had carried them back to camp. They met his gaze and almost wanted to attempt a sheepish smile. He broke eye contact first, arms crossing into a rigid grip. Lucina glanced away before Laurent had the chance to meet their gaze with his look of disapproval. The upper corner of the infirmary tent was actually quite interesting. That’s what they convinced themself of, anyway.

Brady continued to grumble as he set to work. He first cleaned the wound, then disinfected it. Since Lucina had continued to fight with as much ferocity in the back line as they did in the front, there was much to clean away. Lucina bit their lip to distract from the sensation of tugging and pulling from Brady’s metal instruments. When the debris was cleared out, he brought a stave close and cast restorative magic. They held back a sigh of relief as the pain relaxed into numbness.

Soon enough the wound was wrapped in bandages and Brady was directing Lucina to an infirmary cot. Laurent and Gerome rushed over to help as soon as they wobbled onto their feet unsteadily. Laurent offered an arm for them to hold on to while Gerome hovered anxiously nearby. Lucina accepted Laurent’s support and began to shuffle towards the bed. It was odd. They had moved so fluidly on the battlefield. After the adrenaline had faded and their body recoiled with the full brunt of its pain, however, they were finding even the simplest movements excruciating. They lowered themself onto the cot shakily, falling more than sitting.

“Brady.” Lucina croaked as they lay on the cot with their arms stretched out. “Why is it so difficult for me to move?”

“You pushed yourself to the limit and then a few yards past that.” Brady said disdainfully. “Your body is exhausted. Just give it a rest, you’ll be fine once you sleep it off.”

“Right.” They struggled to sit comfortably in the cot, eventually settling into an awkward position on their left side.

Cynthia jumped from her seat, marching up to Lucina’s side. “Lucina!” She was scowling, her fists in tight balls at her sides. “You need to take better care of yourself!”

“I know,” Lucina grimaced as they tried to angle their face to look at their younger sister.

“If you–” Cynthia sighed. “You know mom and dad would have a rough time of it. And I can’t wield Falchion nearly as well as you, so…” Her gaze dropped to the floor as she struggled to continue. “You’re not allowed to die, got it?”

“Hey.” Lucina reached up to hold her hand. Cynthia’s fist relaxed in their grip. “I wouldn’t do that to you all. I will take better care in future fights. Promise.”

“You better!” Cynthia squeezed their hand. Though she still looked annoyed, her next words were sentimental. “Try to rest well, okay?”

“Yes, of course.” Lucina let Cynthia go, watching as she left through the tent’s canvas door.

Brady lingered for a few moments more after Cynthia left. “Are you gonna need help with your binder?” He asked quietly.

Lucina shook their head. “No, I think we’ll manage. Thanks, though.”

“Of course.” He stuck his hands in his pockets. “If you need scissors, they’re in that cabinet.” He pointed across the tent. A beat of silence passed as Brady lingered with a pensive look. Hesitating, he rubbed his chin nervously with the side of his finger. “And, uh, take care.” Brady’s footsteps padded against the tent floor as he took his leave.

After the soft slide of canvas, quiet stretched between the three of them. Now it was just Gerome, Laurent and Lucina sitting together in an uncomfortable silence. Lucina shifted in their cot so they could regard them both. Laurent met their gaze, a question in his expression.

“I might need some help.” Lucina admitted sheepishly.

Without a word, Gerome rose and crossed the tent to retrieve scissors from the med cabinet. By the time he returned, Laurent had already helped Lucina maneuver with their outer coat and undershirt. The binder was revealed like a second skin, coated in blood and dust from battle. Lucina audibly sighed when Gerome cut away the tightened cloth. From the sliver-sized opening, Laurent was able to tug the fabric gently away from Lucina’s chest. He dropped the dirtied fabric into a trash bin while Lucina tied their outer coat back together. The entire exchange was coordinated, yet casual, as if they were helping them hang their cloak on a nearby coat rack. Despite the tension of unspoken words, they worked together remarkably well.

After Lucina leaned back in their cot, now able to finally relax, the weight in the room returned. They resumed their tense silence, no longer distracted by idle cooperation. Lucina chanced a look. Gerome had set his mask aside, his head now cradled in his hands with a sigh. His expression was hidden, but they knew from the tight angle of his shoulders that he was still agitated. Laurent’s previously sour expression had dulled into sadness. When Lucina turned to address him, he met their gaze with a frown.

“Must I say it?”

“I’m sorry.” Lucina’s eyes flickered for a moment. “To be honest, I was not thinking clearly.”

Gerome raised his head at that, balancing his chin on an arm propped up on his knee. His face was troubled but no longer annoyed. The gesture signaled for them to continue, so they did.

“I had not been injured in battle like that for a long time. When I felt the graveness of the wound…it all came rushing to me in that moment. I thought of how I would be buried should I fall. How I would be remembered.” Lucina heard their voice thicken but they kept speaking. “I could not falter in that moment. That’s what I genuinely believed. To stop was to falter, to falter was to fall, and to fall was…” They exhaled into a shaky silence.

“Unacceptable?” Laurent suggested in a neutral tone. Lucina raised their eyes expecting ire from him. They were comforted to instead find understanding.

“Yes.” Their shoulders relaxed with the admission.

“I know how you feel.” Laurent said. “Your loved ones never truly knowing you…that’s what you fear, correct?”

Lucina nodded, their lips thinning into a line. The truth of their identity was still unknown to all save for Brady, Laurent, and Gerome.

“But if you push yourself, you can just as easily fall.” Gerome said. “You know we have triage sages available for emergency care in the backlines.”

“Ah, that was the other problem.” Lucina had a distant look in their eye. “Aunt Lissa was on triage duty for that battle.”

A beat of silence passed and each of them heard the unspoken meaning beneath their words. The wound cut across their stomach, but a thin edge of their binder had been visible from the tear in their overcoat. It was not likely that Lissa would have recognized it, but the possibility was there. Had they fallen back for immediate treatment, their secret might have been revealed without preparation or care. When caught between revealing their truth too soon or pushing past the pain and continuing to fight, Lucina had made the most natural decision.

“I see.” Laurent sighed. “You were in a terrible situation then. I apologize for my prior anger.”

“No, it’s alright.” Lucina said. “I was in the wrong. Had you done what I did, I would have been just as angry.”

“But we are not in the same place.” Laurent’s hand neared theirs and they reached to hold it. “Should I die, I will be referred to the way I am. I will be buried as a man. You do not have that luxury.”

Gerome straightened in his seat, leaning to place a steadying hand on Lucina’s shoulder. They frowned at him, guilt clear on their face.

“Gerome…”

He shook his head. “Please don’t say it. You don’t owe me an apology.” He continued after a pause. “Just…please don’t risk yourself like that again.” His hand squeezed their shoulder, a soft pressure.

Lucina nodded. “Of course.”

They learned a long time ago that they didn’t have to explain their identity to their companions. While Laurent understood through his own experiences, Gerome took care to always sympathize where he could.

Lucina thought it was ironic. The realization of who they were probably stemmed from that mask. It was a last-minute gift from Gerome. He had sought them out just before Naga sent them all away. Without a word, he slid them a neatly wrapped gift and waited patiently as they examined it. Lucina carefully unwrapped the paper, revealing the mask’s sharp angles and delicate artisanry. It matched their armor in color. It was then that he explained it may prove useful in the past, should Lucina need to assume an alias to act without being hindered by the truth of their identity. He claimed to have pulled it from his personal collection, but they knew that it was freshly made. Lucina did not comment on that however. Instead, they opted to try it on.

Upon seeing the harsh silhouette of their masked face in the mirror, their breath hung in their chest. They looked different in a way that was thrilling. The mask obscured just enough to feel unfamiliar, bringing forth a potential for androgyny which they never before imagined in their visage. Gerome noticed their excitement and remarked that its color complimented their armor well. It was then that Lucina pulled their long hair up, wrapping it tightly in a style which gave off the illusion of shortness. It was an impulse. If asked why they did it, they could not explain the exact reasoning. Later they would say that obscuring their gender was a tactical decision. But in the moment, observing their reflection and filled with elation over its unfamiliarity, they knew it was something else. Something that they did not have a name for, but something sincere which came from the heart. Gerome had noticed the way they brightened and stood taller with this disguise. When he said that it suited them, Lucina felt a jolt of excitement. The look felt complete, it felt right in a way that they did not know how to question. They did not dwell on it.

When Lucina dropped from the sky and landed in the past, they reveled in the power that being unrecognizable bestowed upon them. They knew their aunt Lissa as they ran to parry the blow of a risen. They saw the familiar silhouette of their father in their peripheral vision as he hesitated in the fight. Though they had not known him for long, he felt so familiar to them in each following encounter. And none of these people knew them, not as they would have had they shed the mask.

There was a power in anonymity that they were unwilling to let go of. When their family looked at them, they did not see a daughter or a niece or a princess. They saw a masked warrior, come from the future to restore hope. And yes, they assumed that they were a man. But at least they weren’t assuming that they were a woman. Either way, Lucina realized, they weren’t truly being seen. But with the mask, Lucina was able to control how much others perceived.

It was not a true solution, in the end. While they reveled in the freedom from assumption which androgyny allowed them, the expectations of manhood grew to be just as suffocating. They didn’t know why either option left them feeling out of place. Without the words to describe it, they were left feeling a misplaced sadness. To be misunderstood, especially by one’s own self, left Lucina puzzled over where that pain flowed from. It was an imperceptible wound, growing deeper with each passing day it was left unaddressed.

After they were unmasked, they observed the changes in their treatment with a feigned detachment. Each difference in behavior felt like a bruise softly pressed. The discomfort was bearable, everyday even, but it unsettled Lucina’s nerves. Their relationship with Chrom changed entirely. When he saw Marth, he saw an equal on the battlefield. Before, he approached with the curiosity of a colleague. After he knew what they looked like beneath the mask and who they were, however, he treated them as if they were fragile. He was reluctant to spar against them despite their insistence. They had expected some amount of awkwardness. Finding out that one has a child from the future to save your life, and the lives of many others, is not an everyday occurrence. And before this, Chrom hardly boasted tact. Lucina knew that he meant nothing by it but it stung regardless.

On a more relaxed day, Lissa and Sumia tried to take them out shopping for some family bonding time. The dress they picked out had been a guess. From the moment they held it up sheepishly before the women, they knew that they had chosen incorrectly. They were never any good at choosing fashionable clothes. In all truth, they were terrible at attempting to be feminine. The actions felt like hollow intimations of what one considered a woman should do. And yet, the intricacies of their identity were still unknown to them. Having lived on both sides of binary gender, they learned that either interpretation left a bad taste in their mouth. They did not know another option existed except for the forked road between man and woman. Had they been aware, they would have hopped from the path and diverged into the woods a long time ago.

It was not until much later that those thoughts resurfaced. In the desert, chasing mirages by Miriel’s whim, they saw him. He had grown much taller, the edge of his jaw sharper than they remembered. His hair was neatly shorn, most of it obscured beneath his mage’s hat. But they would not mistake him anywhere. This was the first time they saw him wearing clothes that suited him and using words that truly reflected him. When he saw their approach, he was timid. They were the only one from their generation with the shepherds at that point, after all. They were the sole familiar face, the one who knew.

“Ah, hello Lucina,” He said, his eyes averted in discomfort. “I’m sure you might be wondering…”

“Don’t mind it.” They said knowingly. “What is your name?”

His face brightened as he cleared his throat. “It is Laurent. And though this may be apparent from my presentation, I ask that you refer to me with masculine language from now on.”

“A splendid name. Thank you for sharing it with me.” Lucina’s smile was encouraging. Embedded in those words was much deeper sentiment. _You seem happier now that you can be yourself. I have never seen you look so confident, so self-assured. You look as you should, as you are, as you always have been._ Lucina knew it like a heartbeat they shared, but could not explain why. At Lucina’s words, relief flooded his face. And in seeing another person like them, it fell into place for Lucina. It made something long dormant in their heart leak out and touch daylight. What they saw in Laurent, they had long known in themself and it terrified them.

It was many conversations later that Lucina learned about Laurent’s experiences. He had been flung back into the past further than any other. In the years following, he was isolated and afraid that he would never see the shepherds again. His usual comfort, as he had learned from his mother, was research. In his readings, he chanced upon a story that resonated with him so deeply that it stuck in his mind and brought forth questions long dormant.

But it was much more than research that led him to his realization. In the future, with most tomes burned away and libraries reduced to rubble, he had never had the chance to truly sit and read. During those cursed years, there was only time enough to focus on survival. Before escaping that hellscape, he never had the opportunity to engage in enough self-reflection to understand why the thought of being considered feminine felt like iron weight atop his chest. When he finally was able to think deeply on who he was, the idea surfaced one facet at a time. It took a while to break down the different aspects of it until one day it finally hit him all at once: he was a man, perceived as not. The pain suddenly had a source and he began to understand.

It was a problem which required further analysis, he soon realized. So, while he traveled from town to town, picking up odd jobs to pay for food and board, he pursued the topic as much as he could. With a staunch dedication, he sifted through library collections and bookkeeper’s shops for texts which might guide him towards a greater understanding of who he was. In his travels, he was fortunate to find a few others like him. There was a woman who ran a farm with her wife. She employed him for odd jobs, and eventually they grew to have enough of a rapport that he felt comfortable asking.

He learned the words eventually. Transgender people existed, they lived and thrived. Some transitioned. Some did not. The term encompassed a vast array of experience. When he finally arrived to Ylisstol, he was able to find the correct keywords that the texts were listed under. While he found the texts enlightening in their own ways, it was the experiences he shared with others like him that truly revealed the depths of transgender identity. He chanced upon a few lucky encounters where others like him gathered and shared their thoughts. He was able to form a model from that, to draw up a goal to aspire to.

By the time he finally reunited with the shepherds, he was ready to introduce himself as Laurent with confidence. And when Lucina realized that the dissonance he spoke of also resided in their own heart, they sought him out continually with questions. Fortunately, Laurent knew it profoundly and he spilled the truth of that experience out for them like ink across a page. As he spoke, they felt their heart reflected, felt it know and understand. You can use gender neutral language. Sometimes gender is not strictly male or female. Sometimes one identifies with multiple genders, sometimes none at all. It is a malleable, subjective thing which one learns about through self-reflection. It’s moored in one’s own experiences and is intensely personal. There’s nothing wrong with questioning or not knowing quite yet. Lucina listened and heard and felt, at last, their heart resonate with the experiences of others like them.

Something had always felt off about Lucina’s assigned gender. When others referred to them with feminine words, it was as if they were just missing the mark. Once they overheard someone speak indirectly about them. Hearing the feminine pronoun attached to their name filled them with an intolerable disgust. They felt no anger at the person who spoke. It was just the reminder that another version of themself existed in the minds of their comrades, their family, which had upset them. And that version was always gendered within a binary which never accounted for them. Either side felt too constricting, binding them with the assumptions ascribed to gender. They were just Lucina. They were merely themself.

They felt like an image framed incorrectly. The frame was too thick, obscuring and warping the visual behind the glass. And when others saw them, their eyes glazed over and glanced away, never perceiving their true essence. A glare across the glass, the heavy weight of the frame, it distorted how others saw them. It defined how they saw themself for the longest time.

Lucina came out to Laurent first, soon followed by Gerome. In both cases, their words were met with acceptance. They knew they had little to fear from their two closest companions in that regard. Laurent was trans himself. While Gerome was not, he was an exceptional listener. He often listened to either one of them describe their experiences with an attentive gaze and a sympathetic expression.

It was around that time that Brady also learned of Lucina’s predicament. Brady shrugged, his face devoid of judgment. “Whatever works for you. I can keep it to myself, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Laurent jumped then to the true intentions of their proposal. He presented some research on hormone replacement through restorative magic and after several minutes of lecturing, Brady interrupted him with an annoyed wave of his hand. “I don’t need your lengthy explanation! Just pass me the papers, I’ll read it at my own pace.”

After Brady read over the document, he was able to utilize a restorative stave for hormonal treatment. Laurent was pleased because in his isolated years he had tried such practices on himself to no avail. “It seems I have little skill in healing magic,” he admitted with a sigh.

“That’s why you keep me around, right?” Brady smirked as his hands glowed with the bright magic. Lucina relaxed into the spell’s warmth.

After several weeks, they began to notice a few changes. Their arms grew thicker, shoulders now much broader than before. Their voice gradually dropped. Hair grew in thicker along their arms and legs. They noticed a bit of facial hair and sought out Laurent for help in finding a proper razor. As their physique changed, Lucina realized that they felt more and more dysphoric over their chest. Soon enough, they suggested binding to Laurent. He chewed his lip nervously.

“I think that has the potential to be a cogent solution. You must be careful when you bind, however. It can harm you if you wear it too often or too tightly.” With a clarifying tone, he cited his loose mage’s robes as a blessing. “I try not to bind often, for fear of harming myself should I forget to remove them. However, I can acquire some good quality fabric to craft your own if you desire it.”

Lucina’s quick nod was confirmation enough.

It was Sumia who noticed first.

“Dear, you have been gaining a lot of muscle lately, huh?” She said with an air of pride. “Probably because you’re always training.”

Lucina nearly replied before snapping their mouth shut. If Sumia also noticed the deepened chords of their voice, the conversation could take a risky turn. Instead they dipped their head in a stiff nod and left it at that.

Chrom has yet to notice, but he’s the sort to look upon the world with a single-minded perspective. His current goal, to cross the sea and face Walhart the Conqueror, took up most of his attention. Aunt Lissa was preoccupied with connecting with her own child. Lucina had not felt pressured to come out for some time. There was the war to get caught up in. If they needed comfort, they had a few confidants to turn to for advice. It definitely hurt, not being able to confide in the others from the future. But it was a bearable pain, one that Lucina could manage on a moment to moment basis. To put it simply, they were avoiding the inevitable. It was the same uphill struggle as continuing to fight despite the ragged wound across their abdomen. The pain did not cease because they ignored it. The wound continued to bleed no matter how much they wished it would stop.

“I suppose I need to tell them, huh?” Lucina asked with a mirthless chuckle.

Gerome said nothing. His hand remained on their shoulder, thumb tracing a slow arc along their skin. For one who held himself so distantly, his touch carried with it an unexpected softness.

“If that is the course of action you deem appropriate, I support you fully.” Laurent was still holding their hand, his grip solid.

“What use is it to cause undue strife? Perhaps, I can wait?”

“Fate waits for no one.” Gerome said with a look of resignation. “Fate will continue its march regardless of what you have done or not done. What you must say should be said because tomorrow is not guaranteed.”

“I admit, I must agree with Gerome.” Laurent’s voice was steady. “If it would upset you to never pursue the chance to be yourself with your family, then you should tell them. It is better to be known truthfully than to be known erroneously.”

“I understand that but…” Lucina’s jaw tightened. “I worry that it will harm morale. I cannot do that to our war effort. I could not be so thoughtless, so selfish.”

“It is not selfish to seek acceptance.” Laurent said firmly. “It is not harmful to be yourself. Lucina, you have told us and we accept you. We will remain by your side through it all.”

Gerome looked at them directly, his voice sincere. “On the battlefield and outside of it, we will always be there for you. From this day to the last, should you choose it.”

“I trust in your words.” Lucina paused, taking a sharp breath. “But this is not like telling either of you. I have no idea how they will react. And I can’t lose them again.” Their voice nearly cracked at that, a delicate line across glass.

Laurent brought a hand to their cheek. “In the end, it’s your decision to make. It’s a risk, no matter how you rationalize it.”

Lucina sighed deeply. “I’ll think about it.”

* * *

Opportunities came and went, yet Lucina remained silent. Chrom still bustled about camp, Robin at his heels with the next set of strategic plans. Lissa and Owain spent time together as they usually did, occupying their own fanciful world. Sumia and Cynthia trained, honing lancework and riding techniques as a duo. There was no perfect moment, it seemed, for Lucina to catch them all in the same place at the same time.

Several weeks after the incident, Lucina finally let loose a frustrated sigh. “I don’t know if I’ll have the chance to address it before this conflict ends.”

Gerome sat beside them, mending one of his shirts with a practiced hand. “Perhaps you should make the opportunity arise, then.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Call them together. Arrange a family meeting.” He finished his last pull of needle. In a swift motion, he tied the string off in a knot and bit the thread delicately with his teeth. “You’ve waited for your chance long enough. Wait any longer and you’ll lose your nerve.”

“I can hardly find time for such a thing with all of the war meetings we are holding in preparation for the siege on Fort Steiger.”

He wrapped the excess thread around its spool in a moment of silence. Whenever he stitched clothes around them, Lucina often marveled at how delicate his movements became. “You know that once we take the fort, we’ll be marching towards Walhart’s castle soon after?” Gerome finished the careful motion of his thread with a frown. “Do you really think you’ll have time later?”

Lucina sighed. “I suppose not.” They sat back, crossing their arms. “But I don’t think I can tell everyone all at once. It’s too much pressure.”

“Could you split it up?”

“As in, tell them each one at a time?”

“You could do it like that. Though, that might become grating with how many times you will have to say the same thing.” Gerome began to neatly fold his mended shirt. “Perhaps just tell them in small groups.”

“Hm.” Lucina considered it for a moment. “That might make it more manageable.”

They decided to act the following day. Their plan was to strategically pull aside people at different times. First on the list was their younger sister Cynthia, who Lucina feared telling the least.

They knew she always took her leave for lunch a little early. As she packed up her meal in the mess tent, they approached her with a resigned expression.

“What’s with the sour look?” Cynthia tilted her head. Her pigtails swayed at the motion.

“I need to talk to you about a personal matter. Can you come with me?” They tried to sound relaxed, but the words held the air of a death sentence. Of course, Cynthia did not understand that the weight in Lucina’s words stemmed from fear and not anger.

“Wait, did I like do something wrong?” Her eyes widened with concern. “I promise, it wasn’t me who got mud all over your favorite cape!”

“Wait, what?” Lucina was confused now. “What happened to my cape?”

“Oh nothing, nothing at all!” Cynthia squeaked. “I totally didn’t take it out in the rain last night and slip in the mud while wearing it, if that’s what you mean.”

Lucina released an impatient breath. “I don’t mind, Cynthia. But this is not about that, I promise. I’m not angry with you.”

“Oh well you could’ve said that sooner.” Their sister relaxed instantly. She fell into step beside them, her hands clasped behind her. “What’s up, anyway?”

“Just…” Lucina sighed. “Follow me.”

After they were alone in Lucina’s tent, the truth finally spilled out. Lucina’s voice wavered at first, but grew confidence with each successive sentence. Cynthia listened for a long time, wearing a look of intense concentration. When Lucina finished at last, their sister leapt to her feet with a shout.

“Oh big sis—wait, that's not right.” Cynthia paused, frowning with her lip jutted out. “Hm. Big sib? Would that work?"

Lucina shrugged, genuinely unsure how to reply. They found the suggestion endearing at least.

"Whatever, you know what I mean. You're my sibling. I'm here for you no matter what!" Cynthia dove to give them a hug. She could squeeze with tremendous force, and even though Lucina thought themself quite strong, the grip was unbearably tight.

“Cyn..thia..” They grit out in stuttered breaths. “Please…let go…” Cynthia released them at that, and they took a measured gasp to refill their starved lungs. “Thank you, sister. I appreciate your passionate resolve.”

“Of course! Thank you for telling me!” Cynthia flashed a bright smile. “You’re still you. And you’re the best sibling ever, so I’m gonna do my darnedest to support you with all of this.” The smile relaxed on her face as she placed a hand on Lucina’s shoulder. “You’ve been keeping this to yourself for a while now, huh?” Cynthia’s tone shifted, surprising Lucina with its sensitivity. She looked sad all of a sudden.

They couldn’t lie to her when she was so sincerely concerned. “Yes.” They admitted. “It’s been quite some time since I first realized.”

“Were you all alone?”

Lucina smiled fondly. “No, thankfully not. I had a few who were aware.”

“Good.” She said. “I’m glad you had people to talk about it with.”

“Yes, me as well.” Lucina glanced away. “Could you keep this from mother and father for just a bit? I plan on telling them today but I would prefer to be the person to let them know.”

“Sure, of course!” Cynthia confirmed with a smile. “Anything for you, big sib!”

“Maybe…we’ll workshop it later.” Lucina chuckled lightly behind their hand.

After lunch, Lucina purposefully ran into Lissa and Owain. They were conversing with their usual spirited back and forth. Owain was in the middle of an impassioned declaration when Lucina tapped his shoulder lightly. “Can I talk to you two? Alone?” They were careful this time to keep their tone and expression neutral.

Owain swung around to address them. “Certainly!”

Lissa skipped to Lucina’s side, her hands grasping their elbow gently. “Lead the way!”

Lucina headed towards their tent once more. Having a private space made the process much easier. The second time they explained it, their words were more intentional. It wasn’t exactly easier, but the explanations were more familiar. They were able to put it into words that their family might understand. After they finished, a beat of silence passed. Lucina stiffened in their seat, uncertain how this would go.

Finally, Owain lifted his head and hopped to his feet. “Dearest cousin,” he paused, his voice lowering as he asked, “it's still okay to use cousin, right?”

At Lucina’s approving nod, he brightened.

“Dearest cousin,” he began again with the exact same inflection. "I swear upon my blade, Missiletainn, that I will cut down any villain who would dare insult you.” He pulled the sword from its scabbard in one smooth motion. Both Lucina and Lissa jumped in surprise at the gesture. “If any scoundrel misgenders you,” he cried, “give me their foul name and their blood shall color my blade—”

“ _Alright,_ that's enough Owain.” Lissa cut in with a roll of her eyes. She patted his sword hand lightly, implying that it was perhaps time to put the weapon away. “I think Lucina gets it.” She halted, glancing at Lucina uncertainly. “You are okay with Lucina, right?”

“Yes,” they confirmed. “Thanks for asking.”

“Of course! And thank you for sharing that with us. It took a lot of courage.” Lissa leaned forward, arms outstretched. “Would you like a hug?”

Lucina obliged, stepping into her embrace. After sheathing his blade, Owain joined in. He wrapped his arms tightly around the pair of them and lifted them in a haphazard swing.

It was near the end of dinner when Lucina finally found the nerve to approach their parents. They caught them after the meal, just before they parted from the mess tent. Sumia normally tended her pegasus around this hour, while Chrom was surely off to review the attack formation set up in the war tent.

“Mother, father.” Lucina said quietly to their turned backs. They could not hide the trepidation in their words. Both Sumia and Chrom halted and turned to regard them. “Would you care to join me for a chat?”

The third and final time that day was the hardest. Lucina’s words, which had grown in confidence from the previous meetings, now trembled. This was the moment that terrified them like none other. If they lost their parents again like they had in the future, their heart would break in ways unsalvageable. As they struggled to put words to their experience, Chrom and Sumia sat immovable before them. Neither one of their parents cut in or interrupted. Chrom held his arms tightly together, his brow furrowed as he listened. Sumia was concerned, her expression flickering along with each admission. But when Lucina finally ended their explanation, it was their mother who spoke first.

“Dear, I had no idea.” Sumia brought a gentle hand forth, hesitating before taking Lucina’s into her grasp. “You know that we love you, always. If this is who you are, we accept it. Cherish it, even.”

Chrom nodded along with her words. “Well said.” His arms fell from their grip, but he held Lucina’s gaze steadily. “I might not understand all of this right now, and there’s a few things I need to learn, but I’m going to make that effort. I want to be there for you in every way that I can. You’re my child and I will always love you.” The last words he said with a smile.

Relief crashed into them at that, and Lucina knew they could not stop the tears which slid down their cheek. All of the weight they had carried, the anxiety and fear and dreadful anticipation, dissolved. In its absence, they felt light and almost numb. It took them a moment to notice Chrom and Sumia approaching, to actually feel the comfort of their arms wrapping around their shoulders in a shared embrace. They tuned back in to hear Sumia mumble, “It’s okay, dear. We love you.”

For a long time, they realized, they had resigned themself to only so much happiness. They received acceptance from the few they had confided in, and for a while, that had been enough. But daily misgendering and misunderstandings took their toll. Soon enough, Lucina was wondering what they would have to risk for that thrill, to be truly known by those they had longed to meet for their entire life.

Later, when Lucina would overhear their mother refer to them as her child, or use the correct pronouns, they would suppress the urge to pinch themself. When Chrom got used to the shift in language and gender-neutral words came easily to him, Lucina almost could not believe it. In the days following, when Lucina reintroduced themself to the other shepherds, the widespread acceptance felt all the more implausible. They were loved. They were accepted. They were known. Now with the truth manifested into reality, with their comrades aware, with their identity finally revealed, they could walk forth on the battlefield unafraid.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! <3


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